Date: Wed, 22 Oct 2003 22:44:24 -0500
From: Rhaven <rhaven2002@hotmail.com>
Subject: Upon A Time Chapter One

This story contains strong language and sexual content between boy/boy
and boy/man. Purely fictional based story, so just sit back and enjoy.

For more stories and poems, please visit:

www.rhavenlore.com


Upon a Time


Dylan ran. It was a fear with no description, fear only felt of
innocence. He ran for his life. He had known a fear that most men
never dreamed. Dark figures chased him, faceless monsters from his
past. Dylan ran. Dylan always ran. He ran from the ghost of his
father, he ran from the beast that was his mother. He ran from the
twisted soul of himself. Dylan ran. The small boy that was once him
screamed. A cry of terror, of frustration, a call for help, why didn't
anyone help him? Why didn't anyone come to his aid? Dylan ran. Dylan
ran alone, running from his past. Dylan always ran. A slap in the
face, a punch to his stomach, his father communicated those ways to
him. An obscenity, an insult, which was his mother's love, her disgust
for me, overwhelmed her. Dylan ran. He always ran. He ran from the
bullies, he ran from the police. No one wanted him and no one cared.

Dylan woke up crying, again, the sheets soaked in the sweat of fear.
How long must he endure this pain? He was no longer that small
helpless child; he was a full-grown adult. Wasn't he? An adult trapped
by his past.

"Son of a bitch!" Dylan spat seeing that it was only 5 a.m. No reason
to try to fall back to sleep, it was nothing more than a curse for
him, a death of melodramatic proportions. Sirens blared somewhere
outside, a beacon sound of someone's pain. Dylan brushed his bangs out
of his eyes and sighed, he was tired, but he was always tired. Soon
the sun would rise, showering its perfect glow across the earth, a
false prophet lecturing of hope. Dylan forced his body to move and
climbed out of bed. He kicked at the pile of clothing at his feet and
made his way to the bathroom. The reflection in the mirror looked old
and worn. When did he age? When did that youthful aura fail him? He
scratched at the whiskers on his chin and frowned.

"You are a piece of shit." Was his only comment to the reflection. How
many times did he want to smash his fist into that ugly reflection? It
mocked him with the truth. Dylan was a loser, not because of his past,
but because he had allowed his past to possess him. A person can never
grow; never mature until they are willing to escape the boundaries of
their childhood fears. Dylan had never come to terms with his
nightmares. He was afraid to. His nightmares were all that he had, all
that he was. Without them, what was he? The shower felt good, the warm
water rolling over his body like a loving embrace, the only embrace he
ever knew. Dylan knew his was odd, he knew that he was not a normal
person. He spent most of his life in depression, not knowing laughter
and he hated it. He hated this heartache, he hated his life and all
that composed it. Reluctantly he turned off the shower and dried off.
On the floor of his room, he found his pants and a shirt that wasn't
too wrinkled. It smelled clean, so he slipped it on. A real person
wouldn't live like this. A real person couldn't live like this. Dylan
flipped on the coffee machine and grabbed a Pop Tart. He turned on the
monitor to his computer and sat down at the desk. The glow from the
screen lit up the dark room.

"Time to see who wants at bitch at me." He clicked his 'Mail' icon. 54
new e-mails. It had been a busy night. He skimmed through the mail,
seeing if any looked important and chose one. The thing about owning
an Internet business was you had to deal with a lot of assholes.
Nothing seemed to please them. He had thought starting his own
business a wonderful idea. It was going great; BarterVille.com was
growing faster than Dylan could keep up with it. Now it was work, and
all the fun had been sucked dry out of his dream. Too many people used
BarterVille.com to shut it down. Too many people loved his idea. In
addition, the money he made from it wasn't anything to ignore. It had
bought him this house and his new car. BarterVille.com was his and he
was stuck with it. Dylan spent the rest of the morning replying back
to all the e-mails, in his dark room, in his dark house, away from the
light of the sun and life.



CHAPTER ONE

"Jesus Dylan, this place smells like shit."

"Thanks." Said Dylan sarcastically, he picked up the TV remote and
started flipping through the channels.

"Hey I'm just saying you could open a window sometimes you know; maybe
let some light in or something." Joel said leaning back into the couch
and shaking his head. "You live like a fucking hermit here."

"I like my life." Dylan said defensively.

"Bullshit, don't lie to me, I know you too well." Joel shifted
awkwardly and cleared his throat. "You still having the dreams?"

"Everyone dreams." Dylan said flatly. He was happy that Joel visited
him, he was the only friend he had left that could deal with his
melancholy, but sometimes Joel didn't know when to shut up.

"Yeah right." Grumbled Joel. "Remember that time you had that dream
about Lance? Geeze that was freaky, you dreamed he broke his arm and
then the next day, he did."

"Lance, man I hadn't thought about him in a while, what's he doing
now?"

Joel laughed. "If you ever came out of your hole, maybe you'd know.
Lance is working over at Office Depot now. Got married, has a kid and
is still boring as hell."

Dylan didn't like being reminded of his childhood, Joel was a constant
reminder, sometimes he felt Joel did that on purpose, forcing Dylan to
relive the old days, just to see how he would react.

"Well it's getting late; I guess I'll head home." Joel said abruptly.
"Oh, by the way I'm taking you to this new comic book store tomorrow."

"I don't read comics anymore Joel." Dylan almost said angrily, he didn
't like being forced into going somewhere.

"Don't care, I'll pick you up at 11."

Dylan didn't have a change to say anything else, Joel out was of the
house and into his car. Dylan wanted to scream and instantly began
collecting excuses to get out of this little trip Joel had planned. It
wasn't as if he had anything scheduled for tomorrow, he never had
anything scheduled. For some reason Dylan hated his normal routine of
boredom to be interrupted.

It was almost two in the morning before courage and exhaustion lead
Dylan to his bed.

With sleep came the dreams, but this wasn't his normal dream. He was
walking down a familiar street, it was a place he knew, yet didn't
know. He stopped and looked to his right. There in a field were two
rooms, just two simple square rooms, side by side. The rooms looked
old and isolated, single doors leading into places Dylan knew no one
had been in years. That didn't matter here, time didn't exist in this
place. Time waited for something to trigger it, to restart that
celestial clock. Then someone appeared, standing defiantly between the
two rooms, standing secretively in the darkness. Dylan called out, but
here he had no voice. The figure stepped out of the shadows, his
angelic smile glowing, as it always did.

"Jesse!" Dylan screamed, shooting out of bed. He looked around the
room in hopes the dream was real. "Jesse, oh god. Jesse."

With reality coming back into focus, Dylan fell to the floor,
overwhelmed by his vision. Dylan closed his eyes, grasping onto that
image of his lost love.





It was twenty years ago, when children were suppose to know only joy
and wonder. For Dylan it was a time of discovery, dark and wonderful
discovery, truth and pain, reality was not a paradise.

Sabato Creek was its name, of no interest to anyone, well anyone
without the imagination of a child. Three boys played at the bank, not
for the first time, this was their special place. A place away from
hurt, a place for only friendship.

"Go ahead I dare you." Joel giggled. Dylan looked over at the boy and
frowned.

"I don't want to, make Lance do it."

"I ain't gonna do it! That's gross."

Joel laughed so hard he doubled over and slapped his knee.

"You guys are a bunch of sissies. It's only a frog."

"I don't care; I ain't putting it in my pants." Lance said defiantly
puckering his lips in revulsion.

"Okay, but you don't know what you're missing." Joel unzipped his
pants and pulled open his underwear. He held the squirming frog up and
threatened to drop it in.

"No way you're going to do that." Dylan laughed and regretted it; his
black eye pinged with pain as he smiled. Neither Lance or Joel had
spoken of his new bruise, they didn't have to ask, they knew all too
well who had given it to him.

"Who says I won't?" Joel giggled and dropped the frog. He zipped up
his pants quickly and stood completely still, holding his breath,
experiencing the bizarre sensation of a live frog in writhing in his
pants.

"What's it feel like?" Dylan finally dared to ask.

"Creepy." Joel shuddered. "Oh man!"

"What?" Lance said backing away from Joel as if he was about to
explode.

"The frog's given me a woody!"

"No way." Dylan laughed.

"A what?" Lance asked taking another step away from Joel.

Both Dylan and Joel snickered at Lance's ignorance. Joel unzipped his
pants and pulled out the frog.

"See, I got a woody." Joel pulled down his underwear so Lance could
see his erection. "Man Dylan, it's all slimy."

"Oh you mean that kind of woody." Lance said pulling at his shirt,
something he did when embarrassed. "I was thinking you were talking
about the frog."

"Whatever." Said Dylan with a shake of his head. "Did you like it?"
Dylan asked as he ran his fingers over Joel's erection, feeling the
goo that covered it. "It is slimy."

It wasn't the first time he had touched Joel's penis, in fact they had
started making it a habit, something they did almost every day. Joel
always had some good excuse for Dylan to touch his or for him to touch
Dylan's.

"You want to touch it Lance?" Joel stepped toward Lance.

"Um. no thank you." Lance said pulling harder on his shirt.

"Okay who's next?" Joel zipped up his pants and grabbed the frog
before it could leap away.

"Not me." Dylan said quickly and pointed to Lance.

"I. don't think my mom would like." Lance began, but Joel was already
pulling down his short.

"Screw your mom. it's fun!" Joel thrust the struggling frog down Lance
's blue underwear and smiled.

"OH.oh..uh." Was all Lance could say, he wiggled his hips and danced
around until finally he couldn't stand it anymore. "Get it out!
PLEASE!"

"You want it out, get it yourself." Joel said smirking. Lance looked
desperately over to Dylan, pleading with his eyes.

"Joel, you know Lance won't touch the frog." Dylan slipped his hand
into Lance's underwear and retrieved the trapped frog. Lance didn't
touch any kind of creature, from cats to worms, he just couldn't stand
touching them, Dylan thought it was strange, but didn't tease him. It
was the one thing that bonded these three together, no matter what,
they saw more than their weakness, their pain, they were friends
united.

Joel rushed forward and pulled open Lance's underwear.

"Geeze Lance, can't you ever get a woody?" Joel frowned as he stared
at Lance's limp penis.

"Whatcha guys doing?"

Lance screeched and slapped Joel's hand away as they all turned to see
a strange boy walking towards them. Dylan was speechless, this kid was
cute. For the first time in his life, he felt something churn and pull
on his heart.

"What do you want?" Joel barked, obviously upset at the interruption.

"I ." the boy looked down at his feet, feeling the full weight of Joel
's anger.

"Hey Joel, chill." Dylan said stepping between the two boys. "Hi, I'm
Dylan."

"Hi, my name is Jesse."





Dylan picked himself off the floor and stumbled into his kitchen. He
didn't bother to see what time it was, he didn't care. He leaned on
the counter until the coffee was finally ready and quickly poured him
a cup.

"Hello?" Joel yelled from the front door, giving Joel a key to the
house had been a mistake, but Dylan didn't have the heart to ask for
it back.

"In the kitchen." Dylan yelled back.

"Dude, what the fuck? It's 11 o'clock why aren't you ready?"

Dylan looked down at his naked body and tried to smile.

"Sorry, just give me a few minutes and I'll be ready."

Once dressed, Dylan found himself in the passenger seat of Joel's car.
The dream had disoriented him so much; he had forgotten that he didn't
want to leave the house. He didn't have time to worry about that now,
Joel was driving his normal way; like a maniac. Joel drove as if the
destination was the only thing that matter, tunnel vision to the
extreme.

"Where we heading?" Dylan asked when he realized where they were.

"The comic book store, idiot." Joel laughed.

"I know that, I just noticed that. that we're in our old
 neighborhood." Dylan looked out the window to the familiar
surroundings; it was like stepping into a memory, a bad memory.

"Store's on 8th Street, by the Rainbow Mall." Joel said as he swerved
the car into the other lane without warning.

"I dreamed about Jesse last night." Dylan said as they passed the old
convenient store, they haven for superhero adventures and candy highs.

"Jesse? Jesse who?"

Dylan almost swallowed his tongue; he gritted his teeth in anger from
Joel's ignorance.

"Jesse, you dumb fuck. Who do you think I'm talking about, Jesse
Ventura?"

"Oh yeah." Joel said absent-mindedly. "Anything freaky?"

"No not."

"Damn!" Joel interrupted. "Fucking road construction."

Dylan looked up to see the street ahead of them block with barricades
and men in orange vests lounging around.

"Shit, now we have to take Meriden." Joel veered the car towards
Meriden Street without bothering to slow down. Dylan held in a scream
as the car slightly fishtailed, Joel jerked on the wheel madly to get
it back under control.

"You're going to get us killed." Dylan whispered, not really wanted
Joel to hear his protest, it would only make him drive crazier, as if
it was a challenge.

"You know it's not that weird that you dreamed about Jesse." Joel
started. "After all, we were talking about Lance yesterday. I'm sure
that triggered the memory."

"Jesus, now you're a psychiatrist." Dylan moaned. "Don't worry about
it, it was just a .. STOP THE CAR!" Dylan screamed. "Stop the fucking
car!"

"What the hell?" Joel yelped and slammed on the brakes. "What? What's
wrong?"

"Pull over to the shoulder you idiot!" Dylan instructed, looking
behind them to make sure no one was about to ram into them.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Joel screamed. "You just can't yell
like that, scared the shit out of me."

Dylan didn't answer, he climbed out of the car and ran over to the
remains of a house. All that was left of the house were two rooms, it
was just as Dylan had imagined. Two rooms, resting next to each other,
patiently watching as time and life past it by.

"I. I dreamed this place."

"You dreamed about this dump. shit man; you've got some boring
 dreams." Joel laughed, though it was a weak laugh, almost forced.

"Damn it Joel, I saw Jesse here." Dylan yelled as he cautiously walked
around the blackened boards that littered the ground to the burned
ruins.

"Looks like a fire did this place in." Joel picked a stray board and
examined it. "Wonder why no one bothered to tear it down? Looks like
it burned down a long time ago."

Dylan looked around, holding his breath, hoping beyond hope that Jesse
would magically appear.

"Jesus Dylan." Joel said suddenly. "You've got to see this."

Dylan reluctantly walked over to Joel who pointed to a corner of the
second room wall. There still visible through the dusty charred wood
and weeds Dylan saw his name etched into the wood. He knelt closer and
pulled madly at the weeds; Dylan & Jesse. There it was, scratched into
the wood, by the gentle hand of Jesse himself.

"Jesus man, you really freak me out." Joel leaned down to see the
writing and shook his head. "So this is where our mysterious Jesse
lived. Damn man, you really freak the fuck out of me. "